


Never Skip Leg Day

by CourierNinetyTwo



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Femslash February
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 12:11:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5927908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourierNinetyTwo/pseuds/CourierNinetyTwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yang goes to visit her girlfriends for some hands-on training.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Skip Leg Day

**Author's Note:**

> Commissioned by yollm on tumblr!

The night before had been the last straw.

Sure, working the bar nine months out of the year meant not getting as much face-to-face time with Grimm like back in school, but Yang knew she still crushed monsters into paste like the best of them. Nests could be out of the question if backup wasn’t around, but stragglers coming into the city didn’t stand a chance. At least, before last week when a Nevermore picked her up like a toy and dropped her off a half-built skyscraper. Mistakes happened – even ones when Aura tapped out and her vision was so red she could barely see – but after recovering from that, Ruby had come home from a longer hunt, and a few celebratory shots in, they decided to fight.

No-holds-barred in the middle of the makeshift ring in the backroom wasn’t official or anything, but it used to be that when Ruby didn’t have her weapon, she was a lost cause at hand-to-hand. Yang lunged forward first, ready to dole out a lesson in keeping a good stance, when Ruby feinted into a punch that left her seeing stars. She recovered in seconds, but the next shot was just as hard, forcing a retreat until her guard was steady again. A quick knee stopped Ruby mid-punch, and Yang dealt out a solid one-two right after to make her reconsider.

She was light on her feet, so light Yang was struggling to track her path through the ring, but there were no rose petals to signal any Semblance use. Ruby had just gotten faster and no less powerful for it, lithe strength weaving back and forth in a blitz of parries and counterstrikes whenever Yang pushed back into range. It was exhausting when only one punch in ten made any contact, and her legwork wasn’t doing much more than battering at Ruby’s shins to no avail. If she could manage a grapple and take them both down to the ground, the odds would even up quick, but every attempt at a grab or pin was brushed off.

So Yang settled deep into her guard, stance tight and back to the corner. If going to Ruby wasn’t working, she’d wait for Ruby to come to her. Curiosity twitched along her sister’s brow before she closed the distance between them in two whisper-soft steps. Yang fell into the easy rhythm of blocking each blow, even the odd elbow and knee thrown into the mix, but looking for an opening was fruitless. Frustration seared through her blood, and a moment’s hesitation gave Ruby the opportunity for a hammer punch that hit so hard Yang felt her teeth cleave right into her lip. The pain set her Semblance ablaze in an instant sending her staggering away until the ropes hit her back as she tried to push the fire back down.

Silver eyes shot open as Ruby dropped her hands. “Yang, you okay?”

“Yeah.” Yang asked, mopping up her split lip with her sleeve. The blood wouldn’t show on the black leather, probably. “Where you’d pick that move up from?”

Time was, she had spent every summer after freshman year with Ruby on Patch, drilling out a life of bad habits that left her reaching for Crescent Rose when a good uppercut would finish the job that much faster. Then they had hand-to-hand classes at Beacon, but Yang was side by side with Ruby through every one of those. That move was definitely new.

“I ran into Pyrrha when I was scouting and we shared camp for a while.” Ruby shrugged, offering a hand to bring Yang to her feet. “She’s with that one unit no one gets to talk about, but she taught me some really cool stuff anyway. Brutal, huh?”

“No kidding.” Her ego hurt more than her mouth, but there was no Aura fix for that. “When you heading out tomorrow?”

“Early.” The word ended on a long yawn.

“Let’s get you up into bed then, yeah?” Ruby would make her rounds with Weiss and Blake tomorrow, then it was back into the wilds again. Only for a week this time, supposedly, but Yang was used to getting static-filled voicemails about an outbreak there or a new nest there. “I can’t ship you off hungover.”

–

The next night Yang closed early, sending off a pair of texts before taking the Bumblebee out for a ride. Wind whipped across the inch of skin bared at her throat between helmet and jacket, cold as ice, but it kept her exhilarated the whole drive out to the club.

Junior had shaped up his act in the last few years, trading out the mercenary life for fixing up the ramshackle warehouse next door into a hunter-exclusive gym. It drew a rowdy crowd, teams high on adrenaline after a workout and ready to relax at the bar, but he was making Lien hand over fist, and all of it was above-board. Not to mention that plenty of local customers showed up at the club to hook up with hunters there for the night, and they had to pay cover too.

It wasn’t the booze or the dance floor Yang was interested in, though. She went straight into the gym, flashing the red and green fob on her keys in lieu of a membership card. The guy at the counter grunted in approval, buzzing her into the main room.

Miltia was mid-headstand when she came in, pressing up onto both hands and holding the position until her shoulders started to tremble. Both sisters spent a few hours in here every day, refusing to lose an ounce of flexibility or balance just because Junior’s hair was starting to go all salt-and-pepper. Even if they hadn’t been his bodyguards, he was family – an uncle – and blood ties didn’t fade. Yang respected the loyalty, even if had made the three of them butt heads a few times before sorting things out.

“Where’s Melanie?” She asked, bringing both arms up to catch Milita’s legs if they started to fall.

“Changing out the blades in her shoes.” Letting out a deep breath, Miltia folded her body downward, calm and controlled. Yang’s abs hurt just watching it. “She kicked a guy in the teeth last night and he actually put a nick in one.”

“Usually you call more than ten minutes before showing up.” Melanie’s voice carried from the locker room hall as she came into view, barefoot with her heels dangling from two fingers. “Not that I mind seeing you, Yang, but what’s the rush? I know we didn’t miss an anniversary.”

“No, nothing like that.” Once Miltia was standing straight, a kiss was pressed to Yang’s cheek and she smiled. “I was actually hoping to get some training in with you two.”

A pair of brows arched in unison, but it was Melanie who spoke first. “What brought this on?”

Maybe it was a little out of the ordinary. Their schedules conflicted on a regular basis, the constant cycles of happy hours, hunts, and busy weekends leaving little time for dates and nights together, and all those occasions were jealously guarded. For her to be asking to spent time in the gym instead would stand out, which left honesty as the best policy.

Pride made Yang sigh, but she pushed through anyway. “A lot of things, but last night Ruby beat me in a brawl. No weapons, no Aura. It wasn’t a luck thing, either, she just kicked my ass.”

“This is why Melanie and I stopped fighting each other a long time ago.” Miltia’s lips pursed, eyes wide with sympathy. “Training towards a goal is fine, but competition really stings when it’s your own sister.”

“I’ve been two years ahead of her my whole life, and at some point, Ruby caught up with me. Hell, she’s better.” Realizing how that might have sounded, Yang shook her head. “I don’t care that she won. I care that if she’s the standard for being in shape to fight Grimm, I’m not meeting it anymore.”

“And quitting hunting isn’t an option.” Melanie phrased it as a statement, not a question, but Yang nodded anyway.

“I love the bar, but it’s still my job to keep this city safe. The whole damn kingdom too, if it ever comes down to that again.” Yang didn’t exactly miss the days when it felt like death was whispering in her ear, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be ready if they ever came back. “So could you two help give me a boost?”

“Sure.” Miltia answered without hesitation, and Melanie simply shrugged. “You first, sister.”

Her eyes flickered back and forth between them. “Wait, why is Melanie going first?”

“Because with as much as you enjoy hitting things, love, you’ve always been better with your hands than your feet.” Bending over, Melanie set her shoes down, the new blades glinting with fresh polish. “And it’s a lot more satisfying to work up from your weaknesses to your strengths than the other way around.”

“I’ll keep watch, see where you’re lagging.” Exerting effortless grace, Miltia vaulted over the ropes of the nearby boxing ring and took custody of one of the corner chairs. They were meant for resting fighters, but Yang had a feeling she wasn’t going to get a lot of breaks.

“Lose the leather.” Melanie demanded, starting her stretches with a deep split.

Yang unzipped her jacket and let it slip from her shoulders, fingers working down to her chaps and boots. The jeans they were hooked to went too, revealing the bright yellow boxing shorts she’d donned underneath. Her combat uniform was great to wear on hunts, but not for work, and it was a lot easier to spar in stuff with a full range of motion.

After a quick adjustment of her sports bra, Yang bounced into a warmup, ready to get the blood pumping. Neither twin made any comment, although she could feel Miltia’s eyes locked on her body with laser-like precision. Maybe the white t-shirt she’d chosen was a little thin, but the three of them were alone in the gym, so giving out a good view wasn’t really a problem.

“On second thought, I’m going to get some water.” Miltia said, standing from her seat. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

Yang smiled, noting Melanie’s half-hidden smirk. “Wouldn’t dream of it, babe.”

“You say that like we don’t have separate dates all the time.” Turning to stretch her back, there was a light pop as Melanie righted herself. “Are you ready to start?”

“Yeah, but how are we going to do this?” Yang asked.

“I’ll put you through some drills, then we can practice your defensive footwork.” Bright green eyes swept over her from head to toe before Melanie let out an appreciative hum. “It’s a shame it’s not date night. You look really good, Yang.”

Heat rose up her face, warming bronzed cheeks. Years together and she still wasn’t used to one woman always looking at her that way, much less two. “Well, I’m free until tomorrow morning, so maybe we can work something out.”

Melanie’s razor-sharp smile promised everything that made Yang sweat, returning to her usual cool mask as Miltia came back into the room, water bottles in hand. “Let’s get this started.”

“We’ll do pyramids. Squats first, then lunges and kicks for both sides.” Internalizing a groan of despair at Melanie’s instructions, Yang nodded. “Ten repetitions for the first sets of everything, then go down to nine, eight…you know the drill.”

In theory, ten reps of anything shouldn’t have made her blink, but every exercise was back to back, and it wasn’t long before Yang felt fire climbing up her legs, starting with a full-blooded tension in her calves and spreading to a more deep-set ache in quads and hamstrings alike. There wasn’t any pain, no real reason to stop, but without Melanie’s exacting count of every rep, just the frustration of shaking off the rust would have stopped Yang midway through. She was better than this, had always been, but somewhere along the line life caught up with her, and Yang didn’t appreciate it in the slightest – so she pushed on.

“Two more sets.” Miltia chimed in, resting against the ropes until they creaked under the pressure. “You’re doing great, Yang.”

How four words could hit her like a lightning bolt, Yang had never been able to figure out, but she finished off the drills even stronger than she started, body brimming over with energy. Melanie smiled, beckoning her up into the ring with a gesture.

“Remember, you’ll be on defense.” Her stance was light and easy, but Yang knew better; Melanie could strike faster than a Taijitu’s fangs with little to no warning. “You can dodge or parry, but don’t let me land any strikes. Focus on your legs.”

There was no way to avoid focusing on her legs after that chain of drills, but Yang grunted her agreement, keeping her hands open to catch any wayward kicks to the face. That was easier said than done, although she did a good job dodging a quick series of knees and sweeps, even if most of them got close enough to feel the brush of impact. The first blow to slip through was Melanie’s elbow cutting upward against her chin, hard enough to daze even if her Aura swallowed the swelling of a bruise.

“You could have stepped back from that.” Miltia commented, direct but not unkind.

It was true. Focusing on every shift of her legs instead of letting instinct take over had made penetrating her guard a cakewalk. Yang huffed, changing up her footwork and twisting away from the next punch that came flying towards her face. Her lungs were already starting to burn again, exertion dragging on from the warmup, but she countered a blink-and-miss-it hook to one ankle and caught a stray elbow before Melanie could turn into the blow. Confidence was starting to simmer under Yang’s skin, that golden glow promising that she had a fight in the bag.

All of that was extinguished in one pained breath as Melanie landed a solid kick to her ribs, following it up with a second one before she had time to recover. Yang made a sluggish grab for Melanie’s wrist, trying to tug other woman off-balance, but a strike to the center of her chest stole what little oxygen was still giving her the energy to move. The feeling tensed along Yang’s stomach, a tight and empty sensation that made both arms drop to her sides like they were made of lead.

Rather than chasing the blatant opening with the knee to the gut Yang expected, Melanie took a step back, body visibly relaxing. “I think I’m just adding insult to injury, Yang. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just…” She hunched over a bit, panting for breath. “Ruby did a bigger number on me than I thought, I guess. How much longer we going to go for?”

“I was thinking until your knees gave out, but there’s more than one way to do that.” Brushing a few tousled black strands back behind her ear, Melanie smiled. “Take some time in the chair, love. You deserve a break.”

Without the energy to protest, Yang collapsed back onto the empty seat, trying to wipe the sweat off her brow. It wasn’t much of a success when most of her body was slick with the stuff, and when Miltia came up from behind to dangle one of the water bottles over her head, Yang gave up on everything but gulping down the cold water until the plastic was empty and cracking between her hands. The dryness low in her throat was soothed, every breath no longer carrying that acid taste from the core of her lungs, and she settled into the chair, which was far too comfortable for something with a steel frame and finger-thin cushioning.

“Better?” Miltia asked, and after a nod, she leaned forward. “Good.”

The light peck on her lips didn’t surprise Yang much – they hadn’t kissed in at least two weeks – but the heat behind sent a sudden jolt through her. She responded to the pressure like she did everything else, throwing her weight back in turn until Miltia’s lips parted, deepening the kiss. Fingertips brushed across Yang’s shoulder and down her chest, nails pricking sweat-soaked fabric until the hem of her shirt was found and tugged upward an inch, just enough to slide underneath. Melanie’s fingertips were degrees colder than Yang’s overheated skin, making her shiver, and a light bite to her lower lip earned a low groan.

“You’re a mess.” Miltia murmured, although she sounded rather pleased about it. “Why don’t we get you out of this shirt?”

Hands pressed against the inside of Yang’s knees, easing them apart before Melanie’s legs were bracing hers. “I was just thinking the same thing, Miltia.”

“What about training?” Yang mumbled against Miltia’s mouth, clinging to the last shred of focus she could summon with both of them touching her.

“We can get some more time in tomorrow if you want,” Melanie said, guiding Yang’s arms up so Miltia could rid her of the shirt completely, tossing it somewhere out of the way. “But you’ve already worked hard, and I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Miltia’s voice was softer, a gentle whisper against her ear.

Nothing would come out of taking another beating, and Yang wasn’t too keen on running more drills when both of her girlfriends were asking for some personal time, even if she wasn’t quite sure how to manage this. Usually they split up dates to keep it equal, making sure no one was left lacking for attention, and the only time it was ever the three of them together happened on birthdays.

“What should I be doing here?” The question came out breathless, not helped in the least by one kiss against the pulse in her throat and another between her collarbones, twin points of distracting heat.

“Just sit back.” Melanie said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and then clever fingers found the band of Yang’s sports bra, tugging the garment upward until it was just a tightly rolled strap straining across her chest, breasts bared to the cool air. “If that’s okay with you too, Miltia.”

“I don’t mind.” From this close, Miltia’s breath was a tease of it’s own, tickling under her jaw. “There’s plenty for me to do up here.”

Yang found herself drawn into another deep kiss, one she answered with vigor, only to muffle a moan against Miltia’s lips when Melanie’s mouth started to lower inch by inch. Two hands cupped her breasts, reveling in the weight of them before offering a slow squeeze, and there was as much relief as pleasure in the sensation as Yang let her body slump against the chair. It was hard to tell where to put her own hands, because Melanie only liked her hair played with sometimes and Miltia was at a bad angle to do more than grasp at her shoulder. Deep down, Yang knew both of them got a kick out of spoiling her, pushing to every limit of endurance, but she never wanted to assume either sister was passing up the chance for reciprocation.

“Feeling restless?” A low, warm laugh rose in Miltia’s throat and Yang couldn’t help but shudder; that was a sound she only heard when Miltia was very pleased.

“Maybe a little bit,” Yang whispered back, “but wouldn’t you be if–ah–”

Ten pink lines suddenly decorated her thighs, courtesy of Melanie’s nails, and the pain threw Yang for a loop. “Hips up, sweetheart.”

She obeyed without hesitation, letting Melanie tug her shorts and underwear down around her ankles, only to let out a little yelp after bare skin made contact with cool vinyl and colder steel from the seat of the chair. Miltia’s answering hum of amusement left Yang flustered, but she was left no time to focus on being embarrassed when Melanie’s tongue traveled the deep divots between her abs, following the flex of muscle downward. Smooth palms gripped the inside of Yang’s thighs, keeping them parted as a trail of kisses was laid from hip to hip, and she sucked in a tight breath between her teeth.

“Working out always seems to make you so excited,” Miltia murmured into Yang’s ear, the flick of a nail against one nipple trapping a whimper deep in her throat. “Or did you just miss us this much?”

For a second, Yang couldn’t find the words to answer, the dance of fingertips down to her knees and back again tying up her tongue. “It’s kind of both.”

“Really? Because you’re absolutely dripping.” A light brush of contact over the curls between her thighs left Melanie’s fingers shining slick. “If this is how losing a fight gets you…”

“You make it sound like I’m some kind of masochist.” Yang muttered under her breath.

Melanie and Miltia shared a look, both of them failing to hide a smile, and she tried to sputter out a protest, only for those same fingers to spread her folds open and ignite every coherent thought inside her head. The touch was teasing, exploring Yang by slow inches up and down, and she was tugged into another kiss by Miltia, who was just as thorough. When Melanie’s tongue delved between her fingers, passing over the very edge of Yang’s entrance, a choked moan wrenched its way from her throat, muffled against Miltia’s lips.

Something about the sound must have shredded the last of Melanie’s patience, because Yang felt both elbows braced against the inside of each thigh, keeping them parted wide before the press of her tongue returned in rough, determined strokes. It skirted over Yang’s clit, lingering long enough for her hips to roll upward into the sensation, only for to be pinned back down against the chair with prejudice. Miltia started to brand her throat with heavy bites, teeth sinking in slowly until the ache reached its peak, never quite breaking the skin, but with every thundering jump of her pulse, Yang felt every mark echoed all over again.

Her legs were already starting to shake. It would have been simple to blame the trembling on a dozen other things – the sparring, the workout, the fight the night before – but Yang knew deep down the source was Melanie’s tongue delving inside her, drawing out even more wetness before sucking at her clit, and the breathy little moans between each exchange was a shortcut to driving Yang absolutely wild. Miltia’s fingers fanned up and across her ribs, light scratches mirrored on the underside of each breast, and another bite into the widest part of her shoulder earned a whine Yang had no way to repress.

The chair let out a loud creak of protest when her orgasm hit, both hands gripping on each side of the frame for dear life. With Miltia fueling her Semblance drop by drop, alternating pain and pressure, it was a miracle the steel wasn’t crushed, but Yang couldn’t find the will to care as her hips jerked up against Melanie’s mouth. A particularly hard suck chased electricity up her spine, pleasure unwinding like a warm, heavy coil in the pit of Yang’s stomach. 

It took a moment before the darkness surrounding her sank in, and Yang’s eyes fluttered open, meeting Melanie’s jade-bright stare. Arousal was streaked down her chin, face flushed, and Yang could barely form the syllables to say her name.

“I know.” Melanie laughed softly, hair brushing the inside of Yang’s thigh when she tilted her head. “And that was just round one.”

“You’re so wound up, Yang.” Miltia’s fingers caressed across the width of her collarbone, up to the tense line of her shoulders. “No wonder you’ve been frustrated.”

Even if she had wanted to argue, there wasn’t much point. It wasn’t like spending time with her right hand at the end of the night had anything on either one of them – and Yang was sure riding her bike home after this was now totally out of the question. She brought her hand up to stroke Melanie’s cheek, trying to pass on her affection where words were failing, and the darkly satisfied smile recieved in turn sent another flutter through Yang’s belly.

“I’m not done with you, so don’t break the chair, okay?” Pushing up high enough for a deep kiss, Yang tasted herself on Melanie’s tongue before Miltia’s arm went around her shoulders, pulling her back again. “Thank you, that’s much better.”

“Happy to help.” Miltia murmured, returning her attention to the fading bite marks with hope of renewing them.

Yang drew in as deep a breath as she could to steady herself, the afterglow already warming her blood surging into a heavier heat as Melanie slipped a finger inside her, shallow thrusts testing the response before she added a second. When both pushed all the way to the knuckle, Melanie’s tongue joined them at the end of the thrust, painting a slow circle around the hood of her clit. The pace was much more measured than the first time, playing against her sensitivity, but Yang wasn’t any more quiet for it. Gasping as she subtly rocked into each thrust, Melanie’s fingers hooked against a particular spot and Yang cried out, the sound chased by Miltia kissing up to the corner of her jaw.

“I can’t remember the last time you were like this.” Miltia whispered. “Almost worth not seeing you for a while.”

“ _Almost_.” Melanie countered, emphasizing the point with another broad pass of her tongue.

The building rhythm of both fingers was joined by a third, and Yang sucked in a breath between her teeth, the stretch slow and satisfying. Just that constant pressure paired with Melanie’s mouth – which was relentless, only ever pausing when she wanted a savor a reaction – was enough to drag Yang over the edge a second time, so close to the first that the echo of one release seemed to play into the other. She was strung tight from being pinned in the chair but awash with a new wave of afterglow, pleasure pinging along her nerves until every one of them felt raw.

“Two for two.” After wiping her mouth, Melanie’s thumb rubbed against the line of her jaw, easing a sore spot. “But I think I’m finished.”

“You think?” Yang asked, the question creaking out of her throat.

She shrugged and stood up, knees bright red from being pressed into the heavy canvas of the mat. “Well, I have to be fair.”

“Much obliged, Mel.” Miltia teased, and exchanged positions with her like it was a move they had planned all along.

After a brief moment of consideration, Yang realized that might actually be the case.

A gentle touch massaged along the top of her thighs, working out the residual tension there. “Do you think you can give me two too?”

“I’ll do my best.” Yang said, trying not to gulp. There was more than one reason they tended to split up the dates.

If nothing else, Yang never wanted it said she didn’t give things she cared about her all. The balance between Miltia’s fingers and tongue was easy at first, a slow and deliberate exploration between her folds without rushing right to the end. It felt good, almost like a cooldown in comparison to Melanie’s powerful demands, but even the slow uptick in pace had Yang whimpering within moments. She was so sensitive, the muscles in her legs jumping with each brief brush against her clit, and the third orgasm was like a sudden fall off a precipice, spiking when she least expected it.

“I–I’m sorry, I can’t–again.” Yang had to stop to take a breath, head spinning from the white-hot rush of adrenaline and ecstasy trying to short-circuit her every thought. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk to the locker room, much less….upstairs into bed.”

“Don’t be sorry.” A smile quirked on the edge of Miltia’s lips as she withdrew, fingers tracing a soothing path along Yang’s thigh. “You can owe me one another time.”

The smile was returned in full force, even as exhaustion started to wear through the pleasurable haze she was floating in. “Oh, babe, I’d love to.”

“Glad to hear it.” Melanie pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I suppose we should help you into a shower and then bed, mm?”

Miltia’s laugh was unguarded, bright and bubbly as champagne. “Definitely. She’ll need lots of rest before tomorrow.”

Yang felt her face heat up again as both sisters helped her stand. She was going to be back in shape in no time.

–


End file.
